


More than Just a Cranberries Song

by sclara



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Gen, This is just really random and pointless, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies, dialogue only, idek, language warning, sorry you guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1781623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sclara/pseuds/sclara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pretty much just a really short and pointless venture into the zombie apocalypse, 5SOS-style. (basically just me goofing off)</p>
            </blockquote>





	More than Just a Cranberries Song

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry for this, you guys. It's late and I started just free-writing for a Lashton post-apoc fic I wanted to start (original, I know) and this happened instead. Not sure why I'm posting it, but tired brains do tired things, I guess?
> 
> So, uh, yeah. Sorry. I swear I'm a serious (semi) writer usually.

LOS ANGELES, 2013

 

A: _Jesus fucking Christ,_ did we legitimately just watch a woman eat another woman?! …Don’t even fucking say it, Michael, this isn’t the time.

M: What?! You _really_ think this is a time I’m going to make jokes?!

A: Who the fuck knows with you—

L: Guys? Can we focus? What the hell is going on?!

A: Well, I don’t know, we were doing an interview and then that woman suddenly turned cannibal and attacked—Why am I explaining it, you were there!

C: Ash, where are we even going?

A: Does it look like I have a plan ready in case of _spontaneous cannibalism?_

L: Guys…

A: Look, we just need to get back to the hotel and—I don’t know, call 9-1-1 or something.

L: Guys!

M: _WHAT,_ Luke?

L: Look over there…

A: Where—oh fuck.

C: Oh _shit_ , is that kid devouring a mailman?

M: I’m gonna be sick, you guys. I really--

C: Oh, god, Michael, my shoes—

L: Are we really just going to stand here in the middle of the street? Where did security go?

A: Probably ran when they noticed that people were eating each other, not that I blame them.

M: I’m good, I’m okay.

A: Well, make sure you tell us if you start to feel like you want to eat our faces.

C: Nice one, bro. Good sense of timing.

A: Shut up, I’m trying to lighten the mood.

L: Am I literally the only one freaking out about being eaten right now?

M: No, I feel pretty sick, too.

C: Maybe we really should get out of the street.

A: OK, which way was the hotel, again?

C: I don’t know, I don’t fucking pay attention when we’re driving.

L: I really don’t think it matters where—

A: Your attitude is _really_ not helpful right now, Cal.

C: I’m pretty sure any attitude is okay in the fucking apocalypse, _Ash._

M: Can we PLEASE get out of the street before we die?!

L: I second that opinion.

M: There is literally a little girl eating the flesh off a grown man not ten feet away from us. Oh God—

C: Please don’t get sick again.

A: OK, let’s just—I don’t know, there’s a bank. Banks are safe, right? Top-notch security and all.

L: Sounds good to me, but can we just—

C: I don’t know, we don’t know what’s in there and it’s not like we have any weapons. Unless you plan on drumming them to death?

A: When did you get so snarky, Calum?

C: Uh, I don’t know, maybe when the _world ended_?

M: I’m really going to be sick if we don’t get out of here…

C: Stop looking at the girl, bro!

M: I can’t… It’s like a train wreck—

L: _CAN WE JUST FUCKING LEAVE ALREADY?_

C: …

M: …

A: …

C: Bro, you don’t need to yell.

M: Oh, great, you got her attention. Just what I needed. Oh god, she has guts hanging out of her mouth—

A: Bank it is, then.

Z: _Hurgghaaaargghhrrlllll…_

A: Maybe at a faster pace?

 

SOME BANK, SOMEWHERE IN LOS ANGELES

 

A: We really should have thought this through a little better.

Z: _Grrrroooaaaaaghhhhh…_

C: I told you, didn’t I?

L: Guys, maybe we could do this some other time—

A: Oh, stick it, Cal.

C: Stick what?! I have nothing, that’s kind of why we’re about to be eaten, Ash.

M: I’m gonna—

A: _WE KNOW._

L: You guys, we’re like really close to death right now and you probably shouldn’t be fighting.

A: You’re right… I love you bastards so much.

M: Oh my god, I can’t do this.

C: I’m sorry for fighting, Ashy. I love you lads.

L: Oh, hang on, what’s this?

Z: _Grah **hhhnnn** —…_

M: …

C: …

A: …

M: Did you just explode that guy’s head with a shotgun?

C: How did you even know how to—

A: You just ruined our moment, Luke.


End file.
